


Brothers

by silvertrails



Series: Warrior and Minstrel [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 03:24:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11820213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Maglor and Celegorm search for Caranthir...





	Brothers

**Brothers  
** By CC  
March, 2013 

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe on the rights of J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit is made and no harm is intended. 

The story is set in Tirion, YT 1300. This is the year Turgon and Finrod were born. I am assuming that Curufin was born this year too.

This is a birthday story for Tárion Anaróre. I hope you like it, dear! 

Thank you very much to Keiliss for beta reading this fic! =)

* * *

Makalaurë sat alone at the kitchen table, drinking a warm herbal tea. It had been a long day of work at the forge, which was not his favorite place to be, but thanks to that he would have a few free days to work on his music. At least his father had realized that Makalaurë’s path was music and not metal craft. Even Carnistir was better than him, though he mostly liked to play with beautiful gems while learning to make simple things. Carnistir would probably spend part of his time mining as soon as he was old enough for it. 

It was time to go to bed, Makalaurë decided, but first he would stop by Maitimo’s bedroom and try to coax his brother to speak. Maitimo had been quite subdued lately. He took care of his duties at the forge and at Finwë’s castle, but that was all he did. It worried Makalaurë. 

Makalaurë drank the last of his tea and was about to wash the cup when Tyelkormo rushed into the kitchen. He was tall and lanky, no longer an Elfling but not yet an Elf grown. 

“Káno? Have you seen Moryo?”

Tyelkormo and Carnistir still shared a bedroom, and would continue doing so until Atarinkë was old enough to move out of the nursery. 

Makalaurë stood. “I thought he was asleep. Wasn’t he in bed when you entered the room?”

Tyelkormo nodded quickly. “He was, but he woke up and would not go back to sleep. He just sat in his bed, trembling and refusing to speak.”

“So...?”

“I might have mentioned Lord Námo and the Halls…”

“What? Turko, you know he has nightmares about the Halls!” 

“I know, I know. I am sorry! You know how he can be, Káno. He was driving me crazy sitting there and looking at the wall. He said he was coming here for water…”

Makalaurë took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Carnistir could not have gone far. He never really did; the only time he got lost was when Turko forgot that he was supposed to be taking care of him and Carnistir decided to look for him. 

“Come with me, Turko,” Makalaurë said, knowing well that Tyelkormo would follow him anyway. He was not about to explain to his parents how he lost Tyelkormo while trying to find Carnistir.

* * *

Carnistir looked around, still wondering if Tyelkormo was right and Lord Námo would come to take him if he didn’t go back to sleep. Carnistir had meant to ask Maitimo or Makalaurë about this, but they both had been in a strange mood since they returned from King Ingwë’s court. 

He didn’t understand why, but he was always able to sense when his brothers were angry or sad. They didn’t seem to be able to sense Carnistir’s moods, though Tyelkormo sometimes talked to the animals in the forest. Carnistir wished he could do that; he would ask the animals where to find new mines. 

He had dreamed of walking through the Halls, and in the dream he had been looking for Tyelkormo and the baby. He had heard a voice in his head, saying that it was not real, and that he should go back to sleep. Carnistir shivered, feeling cold. Maybe he should go back to the house, but he was sure that someone had called him. 

Was that an Elf standing there? 

Carnistir stopped, alarmed. This was no Elf, though he was dressed like one. 

“Who are you?” Carnistir asked as defiantly as possible. 

“Greetings, Morifinwë. I am called Námo.”

So Tyelkormo was right! “You are not going to take me to your Halls!” 

Lord Námo looked puzzled. “Of course I’m not taking you to my Halls, young one. Who told you that?”

“My brother…”

Námo sighed softly. “Listen, Morifinwë…”

“Carnistir!”

Carnistir was so glad to hear Makalaurë’s voice that it was all he could do not to rush into his brother’s arms. Thankfully Makalaurë himself pulled him close. Tyelkormo had come too, and he shot Carnistir a look. 

“Lord Námo…”

“Greetings, Makalaurë. There is no reason for you to be concerned over Carnistir’s safety. I trust you know that I never take little Elflings to my Halls.”

Makalaurë looked embarrassed. “I know, Lord Námo.”

“I should never have said so,” Tyelkormo said quietly. 

Námo regarded him curiously. “That is right, Turkafinwë, you should never have said so, but your youth excuses your mistake.”

“We apologize, Lord Námo,” Makalaurë said. 

“Why are you here, then?” Carnistir blurted out. “Are you taking someone else?”

“Moryo!”

Námo looked puzzled and then crouched until he was eye level with Carnistir. “I came because I was looking for my brother. You need not worry.”

So that was the voice…

“We should go back to the house,” Makalaurë said. 

Lord Námo nodded, eyes fixed on Carnistir for a moment before he turned around and left. 

“This is strange,” Tyelkormo said. “Why was Lord Námo here?”

“He was looking for his brother,” Carnistir offered, but his older brothers didn’t seem convinced. 

“Let’s go back to the house,” Makalaurë said. Tyelkormo nodded and they returned to the house in silence. Carnistir promised Makalaurë to stay in bed, and Tyelkormo assured him that Lord Námo would never come for him. As he lay back down on his bed Carnistir could feel Lord Námo’s presence once again, but this time he was no longer afraid. He knew his brothers would protect him.


End file.
